


Fall to Pieces

by cherrybina



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-24
Updated: 2010-08-24
Packaged: 2017-11-23 08:18:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/620011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrybina/pseuds/cherrybina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for this prompt: <i>Arthur is always so uptight and in control; Eames wants to make him lose it. Eames bets Arthur will only last fifteen minutes before he comes, and Arthur, of course, wants to prove him wrong. He thinks he can, too, because he didn't count on Eames' shameless exploitation of all of his kinks. Bonus points for rimming and nipple play. Bonus bonus points if Eames wins and makes Arthur have sex with him all over the warehouse, while the team is around. Exhibitionist kinks for the win.</i> I did not manage to work in all the bonus points the prompter asked for, but there's lots of porn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fall to Pieces

“Do you _ever_ really let go?” Eames asks Arthur one night.

Arthur is stretched out in bed on his back and Eames is beside him, propped up on one elbow. Eames just gave Arthur what he is quite certain was a really spectacular blowjob, but no one would ever know it from the way Arthur had been silent aside from a few ragged breaths, his hands tightening in Eames’ hair only the slightest bit when he came. _Polite_ , is the only way Eames can describe it. Polite and ridiculous, since of all the things Eames is really fucking good at, sucking cock is definitely near the top of the list.

Arthur smiles his brightest smile, the one that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle – the one Eames finds utterly charming every single time. “I’m fairly certain that coming in your mouth counts as letting go.”

“You’re so uptight, darling.” Eames leans in, gets right into Arthur’s space until he’s close enough to smell his skin. “And you know I much I love how tight you are,” he grins, trailing his fingertips up the inside of Arthur’s thigh.

Arthur rolls his eyes but Eames can see the blush that spreads across his cheeks even in the dim light and Arthur’s thigh trembles under this fingers. “What’s your point?” he asks.

“I want to see you fall apart,” Eames says, leaning in even closer, breathing the words into Arthur’s neck.

“And what makes you think you can do that?” Arthur says, his voice infuriatingly calm even as Eames kisses along his jaw.

“Oh, I know I can do that,” Eames says, pulling away and looking down at him.

“That sounds like a challenge.”

“It is.”

Arthur crosses his arms over his chest and Eames marvels at how he can look so proper even when he’s lying naked in a post-orgasmic haze. “What are your terms, Mr. Eames?”

Eames thinks for a moment, considering what it’s going to take to make Arthur fall apart. “You give me fifteen minutes to do whatever I want to you right here in this bed. I make you come, I win. You hold off, you win.”

“Fifteen minutes?” Arthur asks, furrowing his brow.

“And I get to do anything I want. _Anything_. None of this moving my hands where you want them, or rolling this way or that. I touch you the way I want to touch you.”

“Okay,” Arthur says after a moment, not meeting his gaze. “But I have one condition. You can’t suck me off.”

Eames raises his eyebrows in surprise. “You love when I do that.”

“That’s why you can’t,” Arthur says through gritted teeth. “I - I won’t last fifteen minutes, there’s no way.”

Eames smiles with delight. “Why, Arthur. I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said about me.”

Arthur finally looks at him, and Eames can tell already he’s going to agree. “What do you get if you win?”

“I get to fuck you at work,” Eames says immediately.

Arthur’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “On a job?” he asks, sounding appalled at the very suggestion.

“At the warehouse,” Eames clarifies. “While everyone else is there.”

Arthur closes his eyes briefly, and when he opens them again he’s wearing a pained expression. “There are so many things wrong with you, Eames. So many. What if I win?”

“You’re not going to win, love,” Eames says, grinning widely.

“What if I win?” Arthur repeats, narrowing his eyes.

Eames shrugs. “What do you want?”

Arthur considers this for a moment. “You don’t ever leave my clothes in a heap on the floor. You either lay them out or fold them, _neatly_ , every time we have sex.”

Eames lets out a huff of air. “Oh honestly, for the love of - ”

“And,” Arthur interrupts him, “You don’t complain about it.”

“Fine,” Eames says, and then rolls over on top of Arthur, bracketing his narrow hips with his knees. “You have yourself a deal. But just know that I’m going to make you come so hard you forget everything except the way it feels when I touch you. Then after that, I’m going to fuck you at the warehouse with everyone right there where they might see, and you’re going to try so hard to stay quiet, but you won’t be able to do it, and everyone will hear you – they’ll all know how good it feels when I fuck you. They’ll know how much you love it because you’ll be busy begging me for more. And _then_ , I’m going to bring you back here, tear your clothes off, leave them all over the floor to get wrinkled, and fuck you while you’re still all open and wet. And you’re going to love it. You’re going to love all of it.”

Arthur is breathing hard, his hands clenched tight at his sides, and Eames can feel his cock twitching where it’s pressed against his thigh even though Arthur just came a few minutes ago. “I might win,” he says insistently, his voice shaking just the slightest bit.

Eames smiles and leans in, twisting his fingers in Arthur’s hair and tilting his head. “I love that you think that, darling,” he says, licking into his mouth before Arthur can protest again.

***

It’s a few days later when Eames decides it’s time to put the challenge to the test. They’re between jobs, and things are quiet at the warehouse, so just past noon, Eames gives Arthur a pointed look, grabs his coat, and heads out the door.

They had sex the previous evening, so neither can claim unfair advantage that it’s been too soon or too long, and with no obligations for the rest of the day, they have all the time in the world. Of course Eames doesn’t need all the time in the world; he just needs fifteen minutes – probably less – to make Arthur fall beautifully to pieces under his touch. He’s hard just thinking about it.

“Am I going to need a safe word for this?” Arthur asks once they’re both naked in bed. He’s smirking, and Eames knows he’s going for offhand, but there’s a tremble in Arthur’s voice that gives him away.

Eames stretches out above him and leans in, so his lips are just inches from Arthur’s. “Not this time, love, but if you’re into that, I have plenty of ideas. A whole box of ideas right there in the closet.”

Arthur rolls his eyes but Eames hears the hitch in his breath. “Just get on with it.”

Eames tugs at Arthur’s hip, urging him over. “Up on your hands and knees.”

Arthur holds his gaze for a moment, then turns over, settling into position. “When does the timer start?” he asks, peering over his shoulder.

Eames reaches for his watch on the bedside table. “When I touch you.”

Arthur shifts his weight, leans onto his elbows and tucks his head. It’s all so _precise_. Eames knows this - he knows the way Arthur moves, because it’s always the same, every time. But this time it’s going to be different, Eames is sure of it.

Eames kneels up behind him, places his fingertips lightly on Arthur’s back, and pushes the button on his watch. “Go.”

It’s easy and familiar at first: Eames leans forward and drapes himself along Arthur’s back, one hand resting on Arthur’s hip as he rubs his cock on the soft skin of Arthur’s thigh. It’s nothing Eames hasn’t done dozens of times before, and Arthur leans back into Eames’ touch, his breaths coming steady and even. Eames lets himself fall into a rhythm for a minute, nuzzling the skin at the back of Arthur’s neck, then he presses a series of wet open-mouthed kisses down along Arthur’s spine. Eames feels it the exact moment Arthur knows how this is going to be different. It’s subtle, but his back goes rigid, and he sucks in a sharp breath as Eames moves lower, mouthing wetly over the base of Arthur’s spine.

“What - ?” Arthur starts breathlessly, but he stops, shifts his weight again, and Eames knows he’s fighting to maintain his composure.

Eames grins into the hot skin of Arthur’s lower back and trails one finger down the cleft of his ass, skimming lightly over Arthur’s hole. “I believe this is permitted, as per our agreement.”

They’ve never done this before. Not that Eames hasn’t thought about it, but Arthur is surprisingly pushy in bed in his own way, directing Eames’ hands and mouth where he wants them, and it’s always, _always_ the same. Eames has had his fingers and his cock inside Arthur, more times than he can count, but he’s never had him like this. He suspects Arthur would be horrified at the very suggestion, which is why Eames thinks it’s the perfect way to make him fall apart.

Arthur’s whole body is tense under him, limbs locked tight, and Eames considers stopping the watch – stopping the whole thing right here because making Arthur miserable is really not even close to the point. But then Eames feels some of the tension go out of Arthur’s body, and Arthur shifts his knees a tiny bit wider.

Eames grins again, and trails his hands down to Arthur’s ass, spreading his cheeks and letting his breath ghost over Arthur’s skin. “Relax, love. I’ve got you.”

Arthur’s hips rock forward at the first touch of Eames’ tongue to his hole, but Eames is ready for it and he wraps his arms around Arthur’s thighs and holds him still. Arthur is so good like this, on his knees with his ass in the air, wide open for Eames to taste, and he lets himself forget all about the bet and the timer - he forgets everything except the way Arthur’s tight little hole slowly relaxes under the hot, wet pressure of Eames’ tongue.

Eames holds Arthur open - digs his thumbs into his ass and spreads him wide to he can lick over his hole again and again. Arthur’s hips are moving now, snapping back and forth of their own accord, and he’s making these delicious noises, soft little moans that make Eames want to keep doing this forever, listening to all the pretty noises he can coax out of Arthur.

It’s not long before Arthur is a mess, all wet and filthy from Eames’ mouth, and Eames pulls away so he can press his thumb to Arthur’s hole, all shiny and slick, watching as it gives so easily. He slides his thumb in further, then leans in and licks around the skin where Arthur is stretched around him. Arthur’s getting louder, and when Eames lets his thumb slip free and fucks into Arthur with his tongue instead, Arthur lets out an honest to god whimper, sounding so desperate and needy, and Eames almost comes on the spot.

Arthur is tight – tight and so hot, and Eames digs his fingers into his ass and holds him wide open as he fucks him with his tongue, until he’s dizzy with the taste of Arthur. Everything is so wet from sweat and Eames’ mouth, and his fingers slip on Arthur’s slick skin, but he holds on as best he can and just keeps licking into him, again and again, until the last of Arthur’s composure slips away and he starts shoving back onto Eames’ face like he can’t get enough.

Eames almost doesn’t want it to end - he wants to keep Arthur here just like this, moaning into the sheets and fucking himself back, desperate to get Eames’ tongue deeper inside him - but Arthur is already _so close_. When Eames slides one hand between Arthur’s legs to stroke his cock, it’s all over and Arthur comes all over the sheets, his hole clenching tight around Eames’ tongue, fucking himself back into Eames’ face all the way through his orgasm.

Arthur’s knees give out and he collapses onto his belly, and Eames is so hard and he wants nothing more than to fuck Arthur just like this – slide into him where he’s all wet and open from his mouth, but instead he leans over and grabs the watch. “Six minutes and thirty three seconds. I win.”

Arthur doesn’t respond; he just gasps into the sheets, his whole body a trembling wreck. Eames drops the watch and leans in, clutching Arthur’s shoulder and burying his face into his hair. He rocks his hips forward, sliding his cock against the slick skin of Arthur’s thighs and up through the crease of his ass, and it only takes a few strokes before he comes all over his back, with Arthur still shaking beneath him. 

Eames drops onto the sheets beside Arthur, and it’s several minutes before Arthur finally turns his head and looks at him, his face still half-pressed into the pillow. “Don’t you dare say a word.”

Eames laughs, giddy with release, his whole body tingling all the way to his toes. “What makes you think I was going to say anything?”

Arthur smiles and covers his eyes with one hand, and Eames is struck again at how he manages to look so prim when he can’t even lift his head off the pillow. “Fine, go ahead. I suppose you earned it.”

Eames leans over and lays his head next to Arthur’s on the pillow, their faces just inches away. He trails his fingers up the slick skin of Arthur’s ass and through his own come all over his back, delighting at the way Arthur shivers under his touch. “You’re so lovely when you’re such a mess, darling,” he murmurs, then pulls Arthur close, kissing him soft and sweet.

***

It’s nearly a week before Eames decides to collect his winnings. He drags it out as long as he can because it’s just so damn enjoyable to watch the way Arthur gets all twitchy whenever he slinks up behind him at the warehouse, like he thinks Eames might shove him down right there and have his way with him, right in front of everyone.

Finally one day when there isn’t much going on, Eames saunters up to where Arthur is standing beside the desk, flipping through a file.

“I believe you owe me a prize?” Eames says, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

Arthur glances over to where Ariadne is leaning over Cobb’s shoulder a few yards away, the two of them deep in conversation. Yusef is gone for the day, replenishing his store of chemicals, so it’s just the two of them Arthur needs to worry about. When Arthur looks back at him, Eames can see the apprehension on his face.

“Don’t worry, love,” Eames says, “I’m not going to take you right here over the desk. Unless, of course, you want me to.”

“In your dreams,” Arthur says, crossing his arms over his chest and meeting Eames’ gaze.

“Oh, I intend to do that, too,” Eames says with a laugh. “But right now I was thinking of dragging you right over there,” he says, pointing to the back corner of the warehouse that serves as a makeshift storage area.

Arthur sighs, but instead of arguing, he reaches for something on the desk and comes back with a packet of wet wipes.

Eames just shakes his head, entirely unsurprised. “You’re about to have mind-blowing sex with me and all you can think of are wet wipes?”

Arthur smiles in that terribly disarming way, the way that makes Eames want to have him over the desk, the floor, and every other horizontal surface within stumbling distance. “I like to be prepared.”

“What a coincidence,” Eames says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a handful of lube packets. “So do I.”

Arthur lets out a noise of disapproval then looks over his shoulder again, but Ariadne and Cobb are engrossed in their conversation and take no notice of Eames waving lube in the air.

“Oh, Arthur,” Eames says sweetly, his voice raised loud enough for everyone to hear, “Would you be so kind as to come check something with me?”

“You’re deplorable,” Arthur mutters under his breath, but follows Eames to the back corner.

There’s a stack of boxes that sits chest high, and when Eames pulls Arthur behind it and pushes him into the wall, they’re almost, but not quite, hidden from view should anyone look over in this direction. 

Eames is hard – he’s been hard all morning just thinking about this – and he is so ready to fuck Arthur until he screams, but now that they’re here, hidden away behind the boxes, all Eames wants to do is kiss him until he’s soft and pliant in his arms.

“I appreciate the romance, Eames, really I do,” Arthur says, pulling his mouth away after a moment, “but can we please move this along before someone comes looking for us?”

Eames grins and drops his hands to Arthur’s belt, undoing the buckle. “What can I say? I like to be a gentleman.” Before Arthur can argue with that, Eames works a hand into Arthur’s pants and strokes his cock through the cotton of his boxers. “Already hard,” he murmurs. “And here I thought you didn’t like this idea.”

Arthur’s hips stutter when Eames slides his hand beneath the elastic waistband of his underwear and rubs his thumb over the head of Arthur’s cock. “Less talking, and more highly inappropriate sex at work, please,” he says, breathless already.

Eames chuckles, but takes pity on them both and pushes first Arthur’s then his own trousers down to his ankles. He briefly considers shoving Arthur face first into the stack of boxes and fucking him so Arthur has to look out across the warehouse, but he thinks that might be a little much, so instead he urges Arthur around so he’s facing the wall. It’s awkward and rushed, but Eames manages to tear open a packet of lube and slick his fingers. 

He nudges Arthur’s knees apart and slides one wet finger into him all at once. Arthur grunts softly, but spreads his legs and leans back into Eames’ touch. This is so far out of Arthur’s comfort zone – Eames can see it in the tense line of Arthur’s spine – but despite that Arthur is here, trusting Eames enough to let him do this, and Eames has to close his eyes for a moment to regain his focus.

“You know,” Eames says conversationally as he slides a second finger in alongside the first, relishing Arthur’s muffled gasp at the stretch. “I really did come prepared. I’ve got a condom in my pocket right there with all the lube. We could use it if you like. I wouldn’t want you to get too messy.”

Arthur freezes for a moment. For all of Arthur’s obsession with being neat and orderly, he hates condoms. It was Arthur who had gleefully collected them all from the bedside table and the dresser and Eames’ wallet when their tests results had come back, and then packed them away. But Eames also knows that Arthur can only stand being all wet and sticky for so long before he desperately needs a shower, and there’s no shower in sight. It’s enough to make Arthur squirm, and Eames does love it when Arthur squirms. 

Eames leans in close and hooks his chin over Arthur’s shoulder, pressing their cheeks together, as he fucks Arthur open with this fingers. “What was that, love? I didn’t hear you.”

Arthur tips his head back and rests it on Eames’ shoulder and swallows hard. “No – no condom,” he chokes out.

Eames kisses Arthur’s neck. “Excellent decision.”

Eames pulls his fingers free and slicks his cock. He fits one hand on Arthur’s narrow hip, urging him up on his tiptoes and lines his cock up with the other hand. It takes a moment to find the right angle, and then just like that, Eames is pushing forward and Arthur is sinking back until Eames’ hips are snug against Arthur’s ass. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Eames hisses, “you feel so good.”

Arthur doesn’t answer; he just hums and pushes back, forcing Eames’ cock in just a little deeper.

“It’s okay if you scream,” Eames says as he slowly pulls his cock out then presses back in again. “You can be as loud as you want – let them both know how much you love it.”

“You think you can make me scream?” Arthur says, still stubborn despite the audible tremor in his voice.

Eames laughs into the back of Arthur’s neck as he rocks into him. “I don’t think you want to challenge me, Arthur.”

Arthur braces himself on the wall and arches his back, shoving his ass back onto Eames’ cock. “Just fuck me.”

Eames isn’t crazy enough to argue with that, so he grips Arthur’s hips and fucks him hard, leaning back so he can watch his cock as it disappears past the stretched rim of Arthur’s shiny slick hole. 

It’s heated and frantic, and Eames wants to lean in and tease Arthur some more about how anyone might see, feel Arthur shudder from the delicious fear of getting caught, hear how many noises he can coax out of him, but all Eames can focus on is the way Arthur’s ass grips his cock, hot and tight and needy, and the soft slap of skin against skin as he fucks him into the wall. 

Far too quickly, Eames feels his balls tighten and the heat of impending orgasm curls hot in his gut and at the base of his spine. Arthur wraps one hand around his cock and starts jerking himself off in time with Eames’ thrusts, and _fuck_ , Eames loves to watch Arthur touch himself. He loves the way Arthur’s long slim fingers work over his cock, bringing himself off with elegant precision. But now he can only dig his fingers into Arthur’s hips and fuck into him, again and again.

Eames can tell Arthur is close by the way his hips start jerking erratically, so he reaches down and wraps his hand over Arthur’s and they stroke him together.

“That’s it, darling,” Eames murmurs encouragingly. “Come for me. Let me feel you.”

Arthur lets out a soft breathy groan and comes, hot and wet all over their hands, his ass clenching hard around Eames’ cock. Eames fucks him through it, shoving into him so hard that Arthur is flattened against the wall, until he can’t hold out a second longer and he comes, gasping into the sweat-slick skin of Arthur’s neck.

Eames eventually pulls out and flops back against the wall beside Arthur. He’s too blissed out to tease Arthur when he rips open the package of wet wipes and starts cleaning himself up. When he’s done, Arthur pulls out a fresh wipe and moves in to clean Eames.

“Fuck,” Eames hisses, as Arthur wipes the cool cloth across his over-sensitized cock. 

Arthur smirks and wipes right over the head, causing Eames to let out a very undignified sound. “I’m not the only one who can be romantic.”

Eames laughs, then grabs Arthur by the front of his shirt and tugs him close. “Admit it, it was amazing.”

Arthur smiles that ridiculous smile again and lets Eames pull him forward, until their chests are flush. “It’s always amazing,” he says, before pressing his lips to Eames’ for a kiss.

By the time they make it out of the corner, Arthur has managed to pull himself together from looking completely fucked out just moments ago, to only slightly rumpled. Eames shakes his head in amazement and drops into a chair, watching as Arthur picks up the exact same file from the desk he had been reading before, as if nothing happened.

Ariadne and Cobb finally finish their conversation, and as Ariadne turns away, she catches Eames’ eye and walks over. She looks for a moment like she’s about to start talking, but then she stops and leans over to pick something off the floor. “Subtle, boys,” she says, tossing the packet of lube onto the desk right in front of Arthur. “Very subtle.”

Eames kicks his feet up onto the desk, feeling entirely too pleased with himself, and watches with delight as Arthur turns the loveliest shade of pink.


End file.
